The Biggest Mystery Yet
by SandraDeee
Summary: It was so hard to look at him and not remember, not feel that gnawing sense of longing and guilt. Especially now.


**Disclaimer: ** I do not own Haven or the characters from the Haven universe.

**Spoilers: **A slight mention of events from the season finale are included in a blink-and-you-miss-them type of way.

**Author's Note:** This place has been too quiet lately! I started working on this story back in November, abandoned it for awhile, but revisited it again recently. There's just something about the idea of Nathan and Audrey in this unexpected situation that appeals to me in some weird way. I've not really seen this type of story done for Nathan and Audrey yet. I've had the internal debate with myself whether the portrayal of the character is out of character, but considering their circumstances, perhaps it's not as terrible as I think. Be warned...this story is slightly angsty in places, very shipper-ish, and fairly suggestive. I don't think it quite falls into the category of M, but those of you who read it can instruct me if I need to change the rating.

As always, feedback is cherished.

* * *

**The Biggest Mystery Yet**

"You've been quiet."

Audrey's head rested against the cool glass of the passenger side window of the blue Bronco. Though Nathan had spoken to her, she couldn't make herself meet his gaze.

Strange. It seemed a lifetime ago when she had joked to Julia Carr that one of her job perks, other than the weirdness she so loved, was looking at Nathan Wuornos day in and day out. The comment had been innocuous enough and seemed funny to both Julia and Audrey at the time, though in retrospect, it may have had more to do with the alcohol they consumed that night than any real humor.

Nevertheless, Nathan had always been easy on her eyes. Not that she had ever planned to do anything about it. Nathan. Mr. Serious. Mr. Intense. Mr. Wry. This was Nathan, her partner, her friend. Why would she risk losing that? But risk it she had. And now—it was so hard to look at him and not remember, not feel that gnawing sense of longing. And the guilt. _Especially_ _now_. Though soon the reminder would appear far more tangible than the wisps of breathless moments on the edge of her mind.

"What do you want me to say?" Her flat tone made his frown deepen.

"Anything. I just want you to…" his voice trailed off. "I want you to not be so damn fluent in monosyllable. You're starting to sound like the locals."

"I guess you've rubbed off on me."

There was no hint of humor, no challenge. And it scared the hell out of Nathan. This wasn't his Audrey.

_His Audrey._

Did he even have the right to think of her that way? Audrey was fiercely independent, fiery. She was the one person who was an improvement to his solitude. Over time their working relationship had morphed into a genuine friendship. But one night—hands down the best night of his life, even if it _was_ fueled by the Troubles—had changed everything between them, though not for the better.

Heaven and hell.

Being with her had been incredible—feeling every touch, every nuzzle, every stroke, the warmth of her breath against his ear, the smoothness of her thighs around his waist, the flutter of her eyelashes against his skin, even her nails digging into his flesh—but the aftermath was a quiet torment. The distance that followed, the shortness of their conversations, and the forced solitude had Nathan baffled.

He used to wish he could disappear from the world, truly finish the separation that had begun when he lost his ability to feel others and himself. Audrey had changed all that, slowly, subtly, unintentionally. She made him believe in someone, when he'd stopped believing in everyone, even himself. Her bluntness, her intellect, her spunk, her audacity, the fact that she was a crack shot—they all impressed him as a detective. But those clearly were not her only attributes. Her porcelain skin, clear blue eyes, stunning smile, and feminine curves impressed him as a man.

Nathan had fought the errant thoughts that entered his mind from time to time. The ones that came late at night when they were working on a case and the world was quiet around them, the ones that urged him to kiss her, to take whatever she would be willing to give, to not worry so damn much about the consequences. It had to mean something that she was the only one he could feel, right? It had to mean something that when she walked in the room, suddenly his whole outlook changed.

And still he'd cursed himself for wanting something that wasn't in either of their best interests. They had a job to do, and it was becoming clearer that Haven was in the balance. And so he'd kept quiet for weeks about being able to feel her because he hadn't wanted to put her in an awkward position, hadn't wanted to jeopardize their friendship or their partnership.

Even after he had told her the truth, he'd kept his physical distance. Too many things pulled at them. The other woman showing up and claiming to be Audrey Parker, not to mention the fallout from the Chief's death. Through it all, they had been each other's support system, leaning on each other, confiding in each other.

It was small moments he missed as much as or even more than the big ones: the shared inside jokes, the walks they'd take through town or along the beach, meeting for pancakes, target practice…

_His Audrey._ How he wished he could call her that and not be deluding himself.

"I miss you." The words slipped out before he could stop them. He'd delude himself a while longer. Really, could things get any worse than they were?

That caught her attention. Finally looking over at him, she could see the furrow of his brow, the quiet intensity of his stare. She felt sick over what she had done, for keeping him at arm's length, and for turning his life upside down. She felt sick for what had yet to be done, for what he was to find out.

"I'm right here. I've been right here."

"You know what I mean. This is about what happened a few weeks ago, when we—"

"I need some air." Her hand found its way to the door handle, and Audrey exited the truck. Her feet hit the pavement of the parking area near Brand Beach. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her fitted corduroy jacket, she began her trek toward the edge of the surf. When she reached the beach, the sand padded her footsteps, but nothing could protect her from the cool wind that blew off the water or the fact that there were some very serious consequences to her actions.

"Audrey." Nathan was right behind her, as she should have known he would be.

She shivered against the gusts. "There's a storm brewing."

He removed his barn jacket and draped it over her shoulders, pulling it closer around her, his hands briefly lingering on her small frame.

"I know we agreed to forget what happened, that it was nobody's fault, but things have been different since then. Strained."

Her teeth grazed her lips, and she averted her eyes, looking toward the waves that lapped onto the beach, but not really seeing them. She said nothing.

"Audrey, please."

She found her voice and tried to sound nonchalant, to sound like those hours weren't what haunted her dreams and her conscience. "It was a one time thing."

"Technically a four time thing." He couldn't keep the hint of satisfaction from his normally placid tone, though he silently bemoaned the timing. Yet when he thought of how avid she had been in his arms, how he had seen the pleasure he felt mirrored in her features, it was difficult to feel entirely regretful.

"One night," she corrected herself. "I'm really sorry, Nathan_. _You're right. That night changed things for us, messed things up. _ I've_ messed things up. I hurt you when we…and I've been hurting you ever since."

Nathan shook his head. "What are you talking about? You didn't do anything wrong. We were both influenced by—"

"No. _We_ weren't. _You_ were. I—I wasn't, not entirely. I knew what I was doing." Audrey took a step back from him, shaking off his jacket, not wanting any small token of comfort from him when she felt so unworthy of it, particularly a token of comfort that smelled like him, woodsy and fresh, and made her want…She shook off the thought as she tried to hand the jacket back to him, but he wouldn't accept it, especially when he noted her shivering again. "Stop being nice to me, Nathan. _Stop_."

"Stop running from me," he countered.

She smiled sardonically. Didn't he know that he would be the one who would want to run from her when it was all said and done? Wasn't it better to rip off the bandage in one fell swoop rather than picking at it gingerly?

"When I opened the door and you were there, wanting me, touching me, kissing me, I _knew_, Nathan. Some part of me knew that you weren't acting normal, that it was the Troubles. And still, I slept with you."

And it wasn't like she was desperate. There were plenty of men who would have happily been a willing and knowing sexual partner.

Of course, she had no interest in any of them, not even the cute ones. Not when none of them were particularly funny. Dry, sarcastic humor, she thrived on it, enjoyed being kept on her toes, and they just didn't have it.

Or how about the fact that none of them seemed to have that quiet force of character? Honest, hardworking, caring, smart, dogged…

It wasn't until recently that she finally recognized she compared all the men she met to _him_. How did they measure up to Nathan Wuornos? Turns out, none of them did.

Not that she had planned to do anything about it. Why ruin a good thing? And so she pushed those thoughts away.

She hadn't even fully realized she was interested in Nathan sexually. Not until he overwhelmed her senses with his kisses, his touches, and her mind was screaming, "But this is _Nathan_!" and her body was urging her to take more.

"Come on, Audrey. We know the way it worked. We weren't the only ones affected. Instinct overruled reason." He placed the jacket on her shoulders again, this time holding on to the hem of it, keeping it closed around her.

"You're going to get cold," she said quietly.

"I won't feel it," he reminded her.

She breathed in his scent, trying to keep her mind clear. "But your body is still susceptible to the cold, even if you can't feel it. You can still be hurt even when you don't know it's being done to you."

Relief washed over Nathan. She wouldn't be worrying about him if she didn't care. Now if only she would let go of the guilt. "Maybe you weren't as unaffected as you think. I don't know. But what I do know is I sought you out, I wanted you. Couldn't think of anything else but having you." He slid a hand under his jacket and her thin corduroy jacket, as well, resting his hand on her waist. He could feel both her warmth and a tremble at his touch. How young and vulnerable she looked, not like the know-it-all Audrey Parker he'd come to know so well.

Nathan swallowed hard, realizing that his touch was intimate, more than any working partner should initiate, but he waited to see if she would shrink from him. When she didn't, he began to run his hand under her sweater to her lower back, his skin against hers.

And when he did, it was as if his nerves came alive. Her warmth was far more apparent when he touched her directly, seeping into him, and the smoothness of her skin enabled him to perceive the roughness of his own. "It wasn't just because of the Troubles. All the Troubles did in this case was bring out something I'd tried to keep buried."

Still Audrey argued her point, her voice clear and forceful, though her eyes were watering. "But you were impaired, and I _knew_ this and…and after things went back to normal, you thought that I had been infected, too, the way you were. The way so many others were. But I wasn't. I could've controlled myself, but I made a choice. I took advantage of the situation."

"You think you took advantage of me?" Nathan asked incredulously, his lips quirking into a half-smile.

Audrey nodded.

"You, um, you do know you can take advantage of me any time you want, right?"

His matter-of-fact words would have made her smile under different circumstances, but he didn't even know the whole of the matter. Would he still be so understanding then?

"I mean it. Let the guilt go. You have nothing to be sorry for." He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, speaking softly. "Even if you don't want to be my lover, don't give up on being my friend."

Audrey swallowed hard. _Say it. Spit it out_. "We didn't use protection, Nathan."

Nathan pulled back slightly. In all the chaos that followed, he had not even given contraceptives a second thought. At the time, he hadn't been thinking about much of anything but planting himself deep inside her. "What are you saying?"

"I'm pregnant." The words sounded foreign as they fell from her lips, but there they were. It was said. It was done. Now there was nothing to do but wait and let him go.

He exhaled loudly, and she lifted her hands, pushing away from him. She couldn't undo her actions, but she owed him this much. "And before you say anything, this is not your responsibility. I don't expect anything from you."

Nathan stared, his thoughts and emotions rising fast and furious.

A baby.

A new life.

Unexpected.

Changes.

A child with the woman he adored.

Did she really think he'd stand idly by? That he wouldn't care, wouldn't want to be part of this baby's life? Didn't want to shower him or her with love? Did she really think he was going to let her face this on her own? _Did she know him at all?_

"You don't expect anything from me?" he echoed. With each word, the volume of his deep voice rose, punctuating the hurt he felt over her assumptions. "What? You think I could just walk away? That I would _want_ to walk away? From you? From our child? When are you going to figure out that you are not alone? Audrey, you should expect _everything_ from me!"

Audrey wasn't sure what to think or what to feel. She had hurt him, not because of the news she had sprung on him, but because in trying to take responsibility, she had inadvertently made him feel like she didn't find him reliable or worthy.

"I'm sorry."

The words seemed so inadequate, so flimsy to her. People said "I'm sorry" when they knocked over someone's drink or stepped on the neighbor's daisies. "Sorry" seemed hollow when stomping on someone's heart.

There were no words.

He took a deep breath, angry, more so at himself than her. He had known something was wrong. Why hadn't he insisted they get it out in the open earlier? "I know. Just don't shut me out."

"I'll try not to," she answered honestly. "I'm just not good at this type of thing. Not that it's every day I tell a man I'm pregnant with his child. First time, actually. And I'm rambling."

"Yep."

"Crap. I just—I don't really do relationship stuff well. And this is definitely in more of relationship territory than, 'Hey, partner, let's question the perp' or 'what did the lab report show?'"

"You don't think we've been more than partners to each other?"

"No, we definitely have been. How else would you know what a lousy singing voice I have? And how else would I know that you have that secret stash of Legos in your guest room?" She licked her lips, and when she spoke again, her tone was more serious. "I didn't mean to drag you into this."

"As I recall, you didn't have to do any persuading. I meant what I said. I don't have any regrets."

"Even knowing what you know now?"

"Especially now. Besides, you couldn't exactly keep it to yourself forever," he reminded her.

She shivered. "I know. I figured I had another month and a half, maybe two, before it was obvious."

"Actually, now that I know, I can't believe I didn't realize it before."

Audrey's hands went to her abdomen. Her pants still fit, her tummy still felt flat to her.

"Yeah. The difference is a little north of there."

Audrey's mouth gaped.

Nathan looked up at the sky. "It's going to rain soon, and you're still shivering. Let's get you someplace warmer. We can try to figure things out."

Almost as soon as the words came from Nathan's mouth, the skies opened up. A drip, a drop at first, followed by a torrential downpour. By the time they made it back to the truck, Nathan was soaked through to the skin, while Audrey's layers on her upper body helped her to fare somewhat better.

Within a few minutes, Nathan pulled in the driveway of his small, craftsman-style house. Once inside, Audrey took off his wet jacket, as well as her own jacket. Her sweater had stayed mostly dry, but her jeans were quite wet from mid-thigh down.

"Sorry about the mess. I haven't had company lately, so…"

Audrey grimaced.

"Didn't mean it that way," Nathan said upon seeing her reaction. "I'm just going to change. I'll get you a towel first for your hair."

She followed him into the master bedroom and watched as he disappeared into the adjacent bathroom, emerging a moment later with a large, fluffy towel. She toweled her hair and watched as he walked to a chest of drawers and pulled out boxers, a t-shirt, and jeans. He paused for a moment before heading into the bathroom and closing the door to change, leaving her alone.

She had been in Nathan's bedroom a few times before. Once when he had overslept, she had shown up to wake him and given him hell for it. Another time she had fetched a sweatshirt to wear when she had managed, in her infinite gracefulness, to spill coffee on herself.

This felt different somehow. The air seemed heavy between them, ripe with anticipation, expectation.

The door swung open and Nathan emerged from the bathroom wearing dry clothes. Only his hair was wet now. "Do you want some pants? Will be too big but at least they'll be dry."

She nodded. "Thanks."

He dug through the drawers before pulling out a pair of gray sweatpants that looked, as warned, far too large for her. She unbuttoned her jeans and hesitated before pulling them over her hips and stepping out of them. Nathan averted his gaze but not before catching sight of her lean-muscled legs. A moment later, she had pulled on the sweatpants, rolled up the cuffs, and tightened the drawstring as best as she could.

Nathan retrieved a pair of socks from the drawers. "What are our boundaries, Audrey?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is that a message to me? You changing in front of me?"

"I wasn't naked," Audrey commented.

Frustration poured from him. "What am I allowed to say to you or do? How am I allowed to touch you? Am I not supposed to touch you at all? What do you want _this_ to be? Because I'll do what you need me to do. I'll do anything but walk away."

"I'm going to mess up," she said simply.

"I know. So am I."

"Don't let me scare you away."

"I told you I'm not going anywhere."

With that, Audrey closed the gap between them, took the clean socks he held, and tossed them aside. She saw the momentary confusion play across his features, replaced by understanding as her hands reached for the hem of his t-shirt. Tugging at it, she pulled the shirt up and over Nathan's head.

He was beautiful, probably not a word most men wanted to be called, but she couldn't help but think it. The muscle definition in his shoulders and chest gave way to a trim waist and washboard abdomen. True, scars peppered his body, but in her eyes, he was perfect.

Her fingers ran down his chest, eliciting a soft moan from him, before finding the button of his jeans and unfastening it. She hooked her fingers in the waistband, running her thumbnail across his zipper. "You want to know about boundaries? The first thing you _don't_ have to do is go into another room to change."

His breath caught within him. "I can live with that."

"The second thing is I _do _want you to touch me." She dropped her hands to her side. It was an invitation, he quickly realized.

Hesitantly, Nathan reached out and stroked her face before resting his hand along the nape of her neck. With his other hand, he pulled her nearer to him, before leaning down and caressing her lips with his own. With little persuasion, Audrey parted her lips under his, and Nathan deepened their kiss.

Her hands went back to his jeans, unzipping them and pushing them off his hips. Pulling away from their kiss, he smiled, finding the hem of her sweater and deftly removing the material.

His eyes drank her in. She wore a pink bra, the lace of the lingerie such a contradiction to his gray sweatpants. Audrey was, without a doubt, the most exquisite woman he had ever seen.

Reaching behind her, Audrey unclasped her bra, and Nathan pulled it from her, tossing it aside on the ground. His lips found hers again, sucking, plunging. Tearing himself away from her mouth, he began to nuzzle the white skin of her neck, working his way down. Audrey whimpered with need, burying her fingers in his wet hair.

"The third thing is…"

"Oh, I know what the third thing is," he interrupted, gently pushing her onto the bed.

* * *

Sometime later, as they lay molded to one another with her back to him, Nathan rested his hand on her abdomen. In the months to come, her now-flat belly would grow rounded. He was going to be a dad. The thought thrilled him and terrified him at the same time.

"It's amazing to think there's someone growing in there," he murmured in her ear.

Audrey laid her hand over his. "I was reading a book about fetal development, and right now, he or she is only about a quarter of an inch long. Already his eyes, nostrils, and mouth are beginning to develop. We've seen some crazy things here, Nathan, but I'd have to say that this is the craziest of all for me."

"This is the most natural, right thing in the world. I'm excited."

She ran her fingers over the back of his hand and heard his slight intake of breath. "I'm scared to death," she confessed. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be a mom."

He pulled on her gingerly, turning her around to face him. "No one ever really knows how to be a parent," he reassured her. "You just…do it."

"I never planned on it, never really thought it was in the cards for me. It's still early, so…"

His blue eyes grew wide. "Audrey, you aren't considering-?"

"No," she answered quickly. "I wouldn't do that. I just meant that it's still early, so it's a lot to figure out, you know? A lot to work through. Things like this don't happen to women like me. I thought I'd be chasing bad guys, not a small human."

"A baby," Nathan corrected.

_A baby_. A part of Nathan. A part of her. Innocent. Helpless. It was one thing to share a ride, or to share cases, or to share a pizza. But to share a child? To co-parent? "How am I going to do this? I mean, babies are cute _when someone else is holding them_, but me as a mom? I've never even had a pet. I don't even know where I come from, who I am."

"I meant it. You're not in this alone."

"Nathan—"

"Look, I kept my distance over the last few weeks because I thought it was what you wanted. But Audrey, this changes everything. We can't pretend like it never happened. I don't want to keep pretending that you don't matter to me when you've been the only person who has mattered in a long time."

"How can you stand to look at me? Nathan, I lied to you. And then I freaked out and pushed you away. And I'm a hormonal mess."

"Why did you sleep with me?" he asked suddenly.

She answered as honestly as she could. "Because I wanted you. I wanted to be close to you. I wanted to make you feel. I wanted to feel you."

"And do you still want those things?"

"Yes."

"Then I mean it. Don't shut me out. 'Cause those are the same things I want. I love you, Audrey. Have for a long time. You might not be there yet with in your feelings for me—"

Love? _Love!_ "Nathan—"

"But I don't regret this baby. Do you have any idea how much I've wanted to be a dad?"

"You're going to be a great dad." She scooted even closer to him on the bed, never wanting to leave his warmth. "Look, you know I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. I'm just not that kind of person. But if any man could make me want to be that demonstrative, mushy female, it would be you. I do love you, Nathan. I just wish I would've made that clear sooner."

Nathan smiled broadly. "All said, I think it's been a pretty damn good day."

"I've turned your life upside down today."

"You turned my life upside down the day you drove into town and nearly shot me. After I saved you from going off the cliff, no less. Today's no exception."

She groaned in protest. "I don't know whether to kiss you or just punch you really hard in the arm."

"Do I get a vote?"

"Always."

"Then I definitely vote for a kiss."

She pressed her lips lightly to his chin, and he could feel the flutter of her eyelashes against his cheek. "You think I'll be able to feel him?"

Audrey knew exactly what he meant. "Or her. And yes," she answered without hesitation.

"You sound so certain. Max Hansen…I couldn't feel him."

"I know he was your biological father, but I just-I don't think there's any..." She sighed at her inability to articulate what she wanted to get across. "I don't know if you can feel me because of our emotional connection or because of whatever my past is, but the way I figure it, we've got our bases covered."

"You really believe that."

"Yes."

Nathan closed his eyes. He didn't have the heart to bring up his other concern, not with Audrey already scared at the prospect of being a parent. What if their baby had his affliction? What if the child was unable to feel? Nathan didn't wish that on his worst enemy, let alone own flesh and blood.

_His child._

The stirring of emotions was unlike anything he'd ever known. It had been less than two hours since he'd found out he was going to be a dad, and already he knew he would do anything for that little life. But what if his curse was thrust upon that little one?

It was a stark reminder that they needed to get to the bottom of the Troubles.

Audrey reached over, tracing Nathan's jaw line, feeling his stubble. "You look so serious. So typical-Nathan."

"Life definitely just got more interesting. Parenthood is going to be our biggest mystery yet."

"I guess we've gone where no partners are supposed to go. This is _really_ going to change things at the station."

"We'll figure it out, Parker."

"Oh, 'Parker.' So we _are_ in partner mode," Audrey teased.

"Audrey," Nathan pulled her leg over his thigh, "we are _definitely _not in partner mode."

And for a while, as they lost themselves in the other's touches, life was simple and whole and right. The complications and consequences could wait for another day.

* * *

The End


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